Thank Goodness for Little Sisters
by TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: Darcy and Gigi talk after he leaves Lizzie. Post-Episode 78. A Lizzie Bennet Diaries fic.


Darcy watched Lizzie as she reached over and shut off her camera. As she turned to face him, he noticed the way she was curling her fists into the cuffs of her sweater, and took solace in the fact that she seemed as nervous as he was. "Well," she said awkwardly.

"Well," he echoed. "I should probably get going, as well. Dr. Gardiner is probably waiting for you, and Gigi is waiting for me." He made what he hoped was a casual gesture towards the door.

"Right," Lizzie agreed hastily, flashing him a nervous smile. "But, um, I have to put my stuff away before I can go."

"Of course," he replied, casting a glance at her camera. "I won't keep you." He turned to go, but stopped in the doorway, feeling an eerie sense of_deja vu. _This time, however, he turned around. "Have a nice evening, Lizzie."

"You, too."

Darcy strode down the hallway to find Gigi watching him from around the corner.

Gigi reached tentatively out for him as he approached her. "Please don't be mad you're not mad are you mad?" she asked breathlessly, her words running together as she spoke.

Darcy looked down at Gigi, and her hesitant expression and the way she was nervously twining her fingers together caused the tension in his jaw to lessen just slightly. He let out a sigh, purposefully relaxed his shoulders, and shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'm not mad at you."

She stopped twisting her fingers and beamed up at him. "How did it go?" And just in case that ridiculously triumphant grin wasn't enough to let him know what she was talking about, she sent a significant glance down the hall to the room he'd just left.

"How do you _think _it went?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Well," Gigi replied, tilting her head thoughtfully as her clear hazel eyes slid over his face, "you're _not _mad at me and you look almost _happy, _so I'm going to venture a guess that it went rather well."

"It..." he trailed off, unable to keep himself from casting a glance towards the door he'd just exited. "It didn't go _horribly," _he conceded.

"On a scale of 'she hates me' to 'we're getting married tomorrow,' how good is _not horrible?"_

Darcy felt the tips of his ears flush slightly. As much as he loved his sister, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to tell her. His mind and heart were still whirling over the events of the last few minutes (he constantly had to keep himself from rubbing_ that spot_ on his arm), and a part of him wanted to keep this encounter to himself.

Then again, Gigi _did _watch Lizzie's videos, which meant there was a good chance she'd find out on Thursday, anyway. "Well enough," he replied, unfolding his suit coat from where it was draped across his arm and slipping it on. "I'll tell you over dinner." He held out his arm, and Gigi rolled her eyes affectionately up at him before looping her hand through the crook of his elbow. Arm in arm, the two Darcys walked out to their car.

Gigi wrinkled her eyebrows up at him as he opened the passenger door for her. "You didn't invite Lizzie to come along?"

"She already has plans," he replied defensively, tugging on the knot of his tie. "She's having dinner with her professor."

"And God forbid we invite a _professor _along with us," Gigi teased as she slid into the car.

"Gigi," Darcy reprimanded, "let it go." At that, he shut the door and walked around to his side. Once the car was moving, Gigi picked up the thread of the conversation.

"I'll let it go if you promise me you won't hide yourself away while Lizzie's here. Tell me you'll invite her over next week."

He hesitated, running a nervous hand though his hair. "I'm not sure she'd accept an invitation from me."

Gigi rolled her eyes. "God, do we have to do _everything _for you? Fine, _I'll _invite her."

"Gigi, that's not necess-_we?"_

Gigi's eyes widened and she suddenly found the screen of her phone extremely interesting.

Darcy's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Who exactly is _we, _Gigi?"

"Um..." Gigi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Me and Fitz?"

Darcy's lips tightened. "And you and Fitz concocted this elaborate scheme? I can understand you doing something like this; you're my sister, but_Fitz? _Why was _he _even involved?"

He could feel the full power of Gigi's patented Little Sister Pout being leveled at him even as he kept his eyes on the road. "We're just trying to help," she explained.

Darcy cast her a quick disbelieving glance. "You think I need your help?"

"Uh, _yeah," _Gigi declared with a laugh. "No offense, Big Bro, but you're not exactly smooth with the ladies."

He couldn't help the small smile that curled the edges of his mouth. "Is that what all that tweeting about eagles and tigers was about?"

Gigi shifted cagily in her seat. "Maybe?"

Darcy shook his head, his embarrassment and annoyance fading into amusement. "Well, next time, can you at least _warn _me? You know how much I hate surprises."

Gigi reached over and briefly squeezed his arm, in the exact same place and manner that Lizzie had. "Okay," she agreed. Just as Darcy felt the last of the tension leaving his shoulders, Gigi blurted, "But only if I get to be a bridesmaid."

"Gigi, really," Darcy scolded, even as he felt himself flush.

"Oh, my God, you two are going to have the cutest little kids!"

_"Gigi."_

"Ooh, I'll be Aunt Gigi! That'll be so cool!"

"_Georgiana Catherine Darcy."_

Gigi visibly deflated under the withering glare he was shooting her while using the red light as an opportunity to take his eyes off the road. "It's true, though," she pointed out, but before she could whip out that Sister Pout again, he held up a hand.

"Please, don't get ahead of yourself," he pleaded. "That was _my _problem; I'd rather you didn't make the same mistake I did."

She gave him a small, understanding smile. "I won't," she promised. "But don't _you _underestimate yourself. You're a good man, William. And I'm not just saying that because I'm your sister."

His eyes softened gratefully at her before returning to the road as the light turned green. They spent the rest of the ride to the restaurant in companionable silence.

Just before they entered the restaurant, Gigi laid one hand on his arm. "Hold on," she said. "Let's take a picture so Lizzie's viewers will know you didn't string me up by my fingernails."

"As if I'd do anything so gauche," he protested, but stood still as Gigi handed her phone to the valet holding the door and leaned in closer to him.

"Smile," she whispered up at him. "Or at least, don't _glare."_

"No promises," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, just as the valet counted to three.


End file.
